


Hollow

by Word_Devourer



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Canon Divergent, Featuring: Alya Cesaire Vs. The World, I found an inspiration, More Characters to Follow, No Memories Premise, Outfit Redesign, Prompt Fill, Ships undecided
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Word_Devourer/pseuds/Word_Devourer
Summary: Paris needs heroes; it's an immutable fact.Chat Noir, for that exact reason, is extremely grateful that he's not doing this alone.But... There's something off about Ladybug, that he just can't put his finger on.Something about the way her suit covers her entire body.Something about the way her visor seems pitch black from this side.Something about the way the only thing you ever see from inside the suit is a flaring red light at the eyes.Not that it's any of his concern, especially when she's the only person in this city with half a chance at helping him save it, but...Something's off about Ladybug.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a 'Terrible Miraculous Ladybug AU.' Which is in quotes because I'm hype to write some more of this.

He takes a step, marveling at the impossible balance he seems to be in possession of now.

 _Incredible._   He wasn’t exactly clumsy, but _this_ is-

He looks up, suddenly, something catching his eye.  There’s something red above him, tumbling down, towards him.

He leaps backwards as the object lands.

No.  Not an object, a _person._   They’ve landed like an acrobat on a tightrope, arms out wide, knees bowed to either side.

They... _She_ turns.

She’s… _Brilliant._ He should take in her appearance, but it’s too sudden, and she’s too close.  All he can register right now is her head; a helmet, halfway between a motorcyclist and a knight.  There’s a visor over her face, and he realizes that his own mask is woefully inadequate in comparison; he can’t make her features out in the slightest underneath it.

“Hello?” she says, seemingly genuinely questioning his presence.

“Ah!” he says, suddenly remembering what Plagg told him.  “You must be the person my Kwami was telling me about.  We’re supposed to work together, right?”

Her expression doesn’t change an iota.  Of course, that’s not saying much.

“I think so,” she says after a second.

“You can call me Chat Noir,” he says, reaching a hand out.

“I’m…” she says, and looks down.  There’s a second of silence, and then she shakes her head, as if ridding herself of an unwanted thought.  “I’m Ladybug.”

Her hand is strange.  He can feel the warmth, and the firmness in the grip, but there’s something _off_ about it, in the same way as her voice is.  He can’t put a name to it.

She steps back, seemingly not even noticing her precarious perch.  Then again, he didn’t either.  Probably just a Miraculous thing.

“So,” she says, “There’s… A monster to hunt, right?”

“Right!” he says, “I almost forgot about Stoneheart.  We’d better catch him before he does any more damage to the city.”

She nods, slowly.

“O- Okay.”

“Just need to get my baton back,” he says, glancing down.

She nods, jumping off, and he follows her down, pulling it back into its small form.

They land, and, for a second, they’re just two people, standing on the street, in supersuits.

He wonders if this is as surreal for her as it is for him.

To go from being cooped up inside, to being a superhero, free to go wherever he wants… Surely, it’s just a _little_ stranger for him, if only by contrast to his previous life.

But she’s looking at him, or, rather, her head is facing him.

He remembers himself, and with a nod, _leaps._

\--

The sensation, reaching the yo-yo out and flying through the air, is a strange one.  It’s at once terrifying, new, and yet… Familiar.  Like she’s doing it for the first time for the thousandth time.

But that’s stupid.  That’s not how sensations work.

She should probably ask Tikki, her kwami.

At least, if she can figure out where to find her.

Maybe there’s somebody she can find?  Someone who can help?

She realizes that she isn’t even thinking about moving.  Flying across the city comes as naturally as breathing, even though she feels nerves welling up in the pit of her stomach.

But why should she be scared?  Hasn’t she faced worse?

_No.  Never.  What kind of question was that?_

Her partner, _Chat Noir,_ is moving onwards.  Maybe he can answer her questions?

Maybe he’s had more experience at this than her?

But…

That’s the cardinal rule.  _Never_ share your identity.  Surely that kind of advice is a risk?

No.

No, she just needs to find Tikki.

She’ll talk to Tikki when she’s done here.

Easy.

She lands, just behind Chat Noir, and looks down at the stadium _.  It’s massive._

And in the middle of the massive stadium, is a massive stone monster, bearing down on what looks like an innocent civilian.

She sets her yo-yo to swing, but it isn’t necessary.

\--

Chat Noir gets there first Ladybug, knocking Stoneheart back, and distracting him enough to keep him away from the boy in the field.

There’s no time to stand and think, though, as he bolts forward.

Just him, and a giant stone monster.

He levels a strike at it, testing the defenses.

He didn’t expect the monster to care that much about a strike that weak, but to his horror (if his eyes don’t deceive him), it seems _larger_ for the strike.

_Not good._

It comes for him, and he frantically dodges, knocking it back, even as it grows with every strike.

Soon, it towers even higher above him, and-

A massive fist reaches back for the goal, and his eyes widen as Stoneheart hauls it up from the ground.

It flies towards him, and he dodges, but-

His eyes catch a flicker of motion as he looks back.

_A civilian._

He doesn’t think, the baton flying out.

He lets out a breath as the goal bounces away, but even before he has a chance to feel relieved, the hand wraps around his torso.

\--

Alya looks up from the ground, where she dropped.

 _Her phone is intact._  Good, she _needs_ to hold on to this footage.  This is _important._

But the black-suited boy is caught, and-

She catches sight of the other one, the girl, it looks like, who’s standing there on the turf.

She’s not looking.

Her head is bent shaking slightly from side to side, one hand up on the side of the helmet.  It’s like she’s trying to focus, or she has a headache, or-

_It doesn’t matter._

“Hey!” she calls, and the girl looks up, sun flashing off her suit as she does. “What are you waiting for?”

She stops dead, and her head slowly turns to Stoneheart.

There’s an instant of silence, and Alya can’t tell if she’s thinking, or frozen.  Her face is entirely hidden.

Then, with a suddenness that surprises Alya, she _sprints_ forward, and-

It’s on camera.  Something slashes out, a wire with something on the end of it, wrapping around Stoneheart’s legs.

She pulls, and he falls, his body obviously overbalanced.

Her camera doesn’t waver, as the two regroup.

\--

He’s ready to take another shot with his baton, but she catches his arm before he can.

“No!  Didn’t you see it only got bigger when you did that?”

With an effort, he brings his arm back down.  She’s right.

“Alright,” he said, “but we’ve got to do something.”

A memory strikes him.

“Wait a second!” he says.  “Our special abilities!”

Plagg had called it-

“Cataclysm!”

The sensation is surreal.  It’s like his hand goes numb, all at once.

And if Plagg was telling the truth, the energy that he sees shuddering in his hand can destroy _anything._

He grins, and gives Ladybug a look.

She looks back, impassively…  The only way she _can_ look back.

“According to Plagg,” he says, reaching out for the goal, “this should-

He pulls back, as the results hit, immediate and unmistakable.

The solid metal of the goal crumbles to dust.

He hears almost a gasp from Ladybug, and when he turns, she seems to be recoiling.

He looks from her to Stoneheart.

If Cataclysm can turn metal to dust, _surely_ it can annihilate this thing.

He rushes forward, not hearing Ladybug frantically shouting, “No, no, no, wait!”

He ignores Stoneheart’s fists, slipping beneath, to lay a hand on the monster’s leg.

There’s a long moment of silence.

And then, there’s a large, stone, foot in his chest, and he’s flying back.

He slides.

She lets out an aggravated groan as he opens his eyes.

“You’ve got to _think_ before you use your Cataclysm,” she says, reaching down.  “You’ve only got 5 minutes before you turn back, now”

“I _what!”_ he says, wide-eyed.

“Didn’t you listen to your kwami!?”

“I- I thought it was just going to be him trying to convince me, or warn me it was going to be dangerous!”

“Well, you were right about the danger,” she says, pulling him upright.

They dive apart as Stoneheart comes for them.

“So, what else should I know?” he says.

“I don’t know, I think you’ve probably got some specific things you’re supposed to know.”

“Well alright then,” he says, managing to restrain himself from hitting Stoneheart again, “what did _your_ kwami tell you?”

There’s a deafening silence as they dodge around the massive fists.

“There’s no time,” she says, “you’re already on a timer.”

Suspicious, but she’s right.

“Alright, well, what if we use _your_ ability?”

“Well, it’s not like it’ll make things worse,” she says.

_“Lucky Charm!”_

For an instant, time seems to stand still as a light flares above her.

“Some kind of suit?”  She says, as it flaps strangely behind her as she dodges.

He looks over.

She stares intently, or, he assumes she does, and-

There’s a flash of red.

“Oh!  I see,” she says, “but how do I-

She freezes, and as he dodges another massive fist, he _really_ wishes she would speed things up.

\--

The experience of transforming someone is peculiar.

It’s being trapped in place, unable to control your surroundings in the slightest, of course.

Then again, it’s the sensation of on some level seeing through the person’s eyes, feeling what they feel.  Well, physically, anyway.  Emotional runoff isn’t so much of an issue.

But really, what Plagg mostly thinks of it as is like walking behind someone, carrying their stuff, except with less… Physical presence.  He had a Chat Noir once who was a knight; always called him his squire.

Plagg still wonders if it was a squire thing to like cheese.

Probably not.

But, whatever the sensation is like, the _point_ is that in this semi-existential state, he can see out, if he’s not tuning it out to think about cheese, and he’s paying _attention_ right now.

Because there’s something strange about Ladybug.

The suit’s unorthodox, of course, but there’s no accounting for taste.

And there’s no accounting for…

The déjà vu.

He’s never met her, he’d swear to it, but he _knows her_ all the same.

Every time she moves, he feels like he should be able to put a name to her.

Then, of course, he can’t even see her face.  Maybe if he could see it, or if she was wearing a _normal_ mask…

But she’s not, and he’s never seen her before.

\--

There was another flare of red light as she looked back.

Or, he thinks there was.  It wasn’t clear.

All he knows is that she had a plan, and that it’s now _his_ job to carry it out.

And maybe it’s crazy to trust someone you just met when they tell you to let them throw you into the stone monster’s hand, but what other chance does he have?

Well, he could have _not_ done this.

But, as the hose fills with water, and the suit inflates, he realizes he made the right choice.

Because Ladybug was right, and there _was_ something in this thing’s hand.

A small… Stone?  Crumpled paper?  _Something_ falls out of the stone hand.

Ladybug _sprints_ forward, and her foot comes down on it.

It _cracks,_ and he doesn’t have time to watch it, as Stoneheart dissolves around him.

In an instant, he’s back on the ground.

He looks, and, in the place of a monster, there’s a boy.

“Nice!” he says, turning, “Pound-

But she’s not looking at him.

Behind her mask, the light is burning bright red.  _Is it her eyes?  Is that what the light is?_

Her eyes are fixed on something he can’t…

A butterfly?

The yo-yo spins blazingly fast.

“ _By the force of creation, be purified!”_ she shouts.

Her yo-yo… _swallows_ it?

He stares, as she pulls it back.

“Gotcha,” she says.  A pure white butterfly flaps away, and she says something in a language he doesn’t know.

A second passes, and she looks over.

She looks down and back up.  He realizes his fist is still outstretched.

He smiles nervously, and begins pulling it back, only for her, _eyes_ to flare again, and she inclines her head as if understanding something.

Her fist meets his.

There’s a moment of silence, and then the sound of someone running.

He turns, even as she looks, and sees the girl from earlier, the one who almost got hit with the goal.

“You’re probably running out of time,” she says, “you get out of here, I’ll see what she wants.”

“Right!” he says, and as he looks down, sure enough, the paw on his ring is down a few pads.

“I’ll probably be seeing you around?” he says.

She doesn’t respond right away.

“I think so,” she says.

He leaps away.

\--

She turns the camera on.

“ _That was amazing!”_ she says, still in the afterglow of _helping defeat a villain._   _She turned on the water!_

…Which is, admittedly, a bit silly to be proud of, but she is anyway.

“Oh.  Thanks,” says the girl, _certainly_ a girl, judging by her voice, seemingly a bit abashed.

“I have so many _questions,_ ” she says, “like, who _are_ you, and where did you get superpowers, and are you from Paris?  And if you aren’t, how did you know to get here in time to fight Stoneheart?  Are there going to be more villains?”

She recoils at the barrage of questions, and Alya can just make out a beeping sound from her person.

“Well…” she says, and sighs, “I’m… Ladybug.  You can call me Ladybug.  As for the rest…” her head bends forward slightly, and then she looks back up.  “I’m on a time constraint, at the moment, and I need to be going.”

“Oh,” says Alya.  “I guess… I guess that makes sense, but I think the people of Paris want to hear from the girl who just saved the city!”

“I didn’t do it alone,” she _snaps._

“Well… One of the people,” she says, pulling back in surprise, “you know what I mean.”

“I… Right.  And, if…” she shakes her head, as if clearing it, “if… _Paris,_ needs saving again, I’ll… I’ll try to have more time for an interview, alright?  But for now, I should be going.”

A slow nod.  “Alright.  Well… I hope we meet again, Ladybug.”

A nod in return.

She turns away, and looks up at the overhang, clearly looking for somewhere to grab on to, and then gasps.

She staggers forward, and Alya hears her breathing go suddenly rapid and shallow.

_“No no no no no,”she mutters, barely a breath._

A single deep breath, and she manages to get herself under control, though obviously shaky.

Alya stares; there’s… Steam?  Smoke?  _Something_ coming off her, the same red as her suit.

She turns, the mask leaving her face a mystery.

There’s a flare of red.

“Turn it off!” she says, desperate.

Alya is a committed journalist, but not _that_ kind of committed.  She taps the button and rushes forward.

“Ladybug?”

 _“No… No!  I can’t- I can’t… I can’t let you see me detransformed.  That’s… That’s the rule. You have to-”_ she lets out a gasp of pain, and the smoke continues to pour off of her, out from behind her armor.

“I have to go, but-“ she groans, “why does it feel like this?  It’s not supposed to feel like this!”

“Like what!?” she has a hand on Ladybug’s shoulder, desperately trying to keep her from panicking.

“Like-“ her breathing has gone into the deep breaths of someone fighting through pain.  “I-“ a moan of agony.  She brings her hands up, putting them on either side of Alya’s head.  “ _Don’t tell anyone, about… abou-“_ the word is cut off a scream rises from some deep place in her.”

Alya pulls back, but her eyes catch something.  Her hands feel strange, oddly slippery.  But more than that, the smoke is almost blinding now, but through it…

There’s something strange, like Ladybug is blurred, in her entirety, body trying to suddenly by a few feet to the right.  Then, a few feet back, and above, and then, as the scream becomes almost too loud to bear, there’s a glow, and then a blinding light, and in a flash…

Ladybug is gone.

Alya, kneeling there, feels her heart beating too fast, hand shaking where… Where it was on her shoulder.

There’s something more, though.

Sitting in the grass where Ladybug was, are two small, red, earrings.


	2. Wake Up Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curiosity killed the cat.  
> But Alya isn't a cat.

She took the earrings.

Of _course_ she took the earrings.

They seem to have disintegrated the person wearing them, but there’s no denying they seem _important._

They’re sitting on her desk right now.

Alya, for the moment, isn’t looking at them.

She’s busy, thinking.

_Ladybug knew something was coming, but it didn’t happen like she’d expected.  Something went horribly wrong, and now she’s gone._

Alya doesn’t want to consider the possibility that Ladybug is… _Dead,_ but it does kind of keep pushing its way to the forefront of her mind.

If she _isn’t_ dead…

Where is she?

Where did she go?

She’s been wondering…  Well, since she picked up the earrings.  She seems no closer now than she was when she first started wondering.

She leans forward, rubbing lightly at her forehead.

She looks over at the earrings again.

The _nasty_ part is that she doesn’t actually _know_ that the earrings matter.  They were just the part that was left behind.

Maybe someone dropped them earlier, and they just happened to be where Ladybug vanished, or…

She reaches out a hand, tapping lightly on one of them.

It’s a mystery.

She _kind_ of wants to put them on, but… Considering what happened to Ladybug…

Maybe not.

Her finger comes to a rest, sitting on the earring.

“Hmm,” she mutters.

Then…

She looks down, because there’s the strangest sensation.

The earring is stationary, and simple.  Nothing that should make her feel like…

She shakes her head, but the feeling doesn’t go away.

It’s like she has her finger on a button, or a switch.

_Should she…_

No.

No, not with what happened to Ladybug.

But if she doesn’t… Maybe she’ll never find out.

_Some paths aren’t meant to be taken._

_But sometimes, those paths are the ones leading to knowledge you can’t get any other way._

She… _Presses._   Sort of.

There’s a flash, a ball of light, spiraling up from the earrings.

She pulls back as…

There’s a small, red, black-spotted figure, floating above her desk.

It opens its eyes.

They stare at each other for a long, long second.

Alya blinks once or twice.

The figure, strange, with a massive head compared to the rest of its body, seems uncomfortable.

Alya takes a deep breath, and…

“Uhhhhhhhh…” the sound stretches out, like the most lackluster screech of terror the world has ever heard.

The figure doesn’t respond.

Alya looks down, lips pursed.

“So…” she says, eventually, “I guess… You’re a thing that exists.”

“Yup,” says the creature, a high voice, probably… probably a she?  Good enough a guess, anyway.

“Um…  I’m… Alya?” she says.

“And I’m Tikki,” she says, sounding almost _excited_ behind the reservation in her voice.

There are a few more seconds of silence.

“I… I imagine you have some questions?” says Tikki.

“Uhhh, _yeah,”_ she says.  “Like… What _are_ you?  What happened to Ladybug?  Is she okay?  Wh-“ she breaks off, and shakes her head.

Tikki considers the questions, carefully.

“I am a kwami,” she says.  “This Miraculous is my home.  I am responsible for transforming its owner.”

“Like Ladybug was?” she says.

“No, not… Not, usually, like she was.”

“So, disintegration isn’t the usual end to being transformed.”

Tikki laughs.  “No, of course not!”

“You’re laughing like… Is Ladybug okay?”

Her laughter quiets, and she seems pensive.

“That’s a difficult question.  I’m not sure there’s an answer to it, yet.  If you want to, you could try asking her.”

 _“Asking_ her?”

“Well,” says Tikki, “I certainly can’t.”

“Oh.  Why not?”

“Because I can’t talk when she can hear me.  Because…  How about this.  If you call her back, you’ll see.”

“ _Call her back?”_

“Exactly!  I’ll just need something to eat, first.  Have you got anything sweet?”

…

She _does_ , in fact, have something sweet, perks of a mother in the catering business, but it’s still more surreal than anything to open her refrigerator, looking for a snack for a… a _kwami._   She didn’t even know that was a word.  She didn’t know what a _Miraculous_ was.

She still doesn’t, really.

But she’s going to find out, and the first step is ‘Calling Ladybug back.’

She slips back to her room, and shuts the door behind her.

And locks it.

This is not the time for her little siblings to come in here and learn what she’s pretty sure is now Paris’ hottest secret.

She comes back in with a whole chocolate chip cookie, larger than Tikki’s whole body.

She silently passes it over, and Tikki begins consuming it, piece by methodical piece.

There’s a long silence.

“So… Why do you need the cookie?”

“I can’t transform people if I haven’t eaten,” she explains, “and I’m sure it’s just the same for this!”

A few more bites.

“So… You’re not transforming her.  Is she… Are you _summoning_ her from somewhere?”

A few more bites.

“I don’t know, exactly.  This hasn’t happened before.”

“And how far back does ‘before,’ go?”

“Thousands of years.”

Alya blinks.

“So you’re older than you look.”

Tikki nods. “Mhm.”

The cookie’s already half gone, and Tikki isn’t slowing down.

Alya looks over at her phone.

She has no doubt she could easily get over a thousand hits with a video of Tikki.  If she gets lucky, the sky’s the limit, for that matter.

Except, of course, that she didn’t want her siblings to know so that they couldn’t spill the secret.

She can’t, in good faith, take video, could she?

Another quarter of the cookie, gone.

Alya looks down at the earrings.

They’re sitting, seemingly innocuous.  If they hadn’t been left in place of Ladybug, and if she hadn’t seen Tikki rise from them, she could easily have believed they were nothing special.

That’s not an option, now.

Tikki finishes the cookie.

“Alright!” she says, “I guess we’ll have to see if we can get her back.”

“You mean, you don’t know?”

Tikki shakes her head.

“And I can’t do it without your help, either,” she says.

“Oh.  Okay.  What do I do?”

Tikki looks at the earrings.

“Whenever I transform someone there’s always something they have to say.  Usually, it’s something like ‘Transform me,’ or, ‘Spots on.’”

The sense of surreality isn’t going away.

“Okay,” she says, “should I…” she gestures at the earrings.

Tikki nods.

She picks them up.

She can’t believe she’s trying this.

“Spots on?”

Silence.

“Transform me?”

The silence is almost a relief this time, since she’s not sure what she would have done if she’d ended up in the same spot as Ladybug, where she’d been apparently _disintegrated._

She looks at Tikki, who seems genuinely concerned.

“None of that felt right.  I can always feel when someone is trying to transform, but not that time.”

“Maybe it’s something else,” says Alya, “like… ‘Wake up, Ladybug,’ or-

She doesn’t have a chance to offer another answer, as Tikki flares with light, and practically seems _sucked into_ the earrings.

They _burn_ , and with a gasp, she drops them.

They… float, and for a second, there’s a sensation, like lightning about to strike.

There’s a flash of white, and she leans back instinctively in her chair.  Indistinct, in the light, she makes out the shape of a young girl, outlined in white, the only other color the red, and now black, of the earrings at the sides of her head.  She’s bent backwards, arms out at her sides.  She seems to be in the moment of taking her first deep breath in an age.

Then, she convulses, snapping forward, the suddenness of the action pushing Alya further back.  There’s a swirling red mist, twisting around her form as a whole.

The helmet comes first, covering over the earrings, not to mention the entirety of her head.  Then, the mist begins to catch, the white seeming almost _painted_ in red.  And finally, with a _snap_ the suit is simply _there_ , and, Alya realizes, so is Ladybug.

There’s an instant of silence.

Alya’s chair finally overbalances, and she collapses back onto the floor with a loud clatter.

Ladybug stares down at Alya.

Alya stares up at Ladybug.

A long moment passes, and neither of them moves.

Alya hasn’t had a chance to look back on the footage from earlier, so this is her first real opportunity to take in what Ladybug actually _looks like._

Her suit is bright, shining red, almost painful to the eye.  It gleams in the light coming in through the window, all glossy red, in stark contrast to the black spots, which are so dark as to almost seem like holes in the suit.

And suit is almost a misnomer, unless it were a suit of armor.  Except for the joints, everything is covered by a thin coating of some rigid material.  It looks like it can’t be strong enough to block much of anything, but…  Well, it’s probably stronger than it looks.  The joints, meanwhile, are something else; it might be some kind of stiff fabric.  Unfortunately, she’s not moving enough to make it obvious.

And of course, the part that she noticed immediately, even back in the stadium; the helmet.  Where Chat Noir’s neck and face are mostly exposed, hers are not.  The helmet she wears seems to be made of layers of the same material as her suit, folded over each other like armor.  It would seem medieval, were in not for the glassy visor at her eyes.  Well, glassy implies it’s clear; from the outside, it seems almost like obsidian, shiny and black.  It seems _impossible_ to see her face underneath.

Actually, Alya realizes, it’s almost impossible to tell _anything_ about her appearance; the suit isn’t exactly skintight, the silhouette broken up by the irregular plating.  At the same time, though, it seems to cover every inch of her body.  There isn’t the barest fragment of skin visible.

Alya realizes she’s staring.

Of course, judging by the fact that Ladybug hasn’t moved an inch, so is she.

Alya clears her throat.

“So… Where are _you_ from?”

Ladybug pulls her head up, slightly.  “What?”

“Uh,” she says, “I mean, you weren’t here a second ago, so… You must have been somewhere, right?”

“Oh,” says Ladybug, nodding.

She doesn’t respond further.

Alya glances from side to side.

No response seems forthcoming.

“I mean…” she laughs, “You didn’t get sudden amnesia or something, right?”

“I mean…” says Ladybug, and pauses, for a long moment.  “I guess, I didn’t _not_ get sudden amnesia.”

Alya’s eyes widen, and she pushes herself up onto her elbows.

“No way!  So, you don’t know how you got here?  Do you remember fighting Stoneheart?”

“Wh-“ says Ladybug, drawing a hand past her helmet, “ _Of course I remember Stoneheart._   I just… I don’t remember much, before, that.”

“I mean, how do I know what you remember?  Maybe every time you… Disintegrate, I guess, you forget everything.”

Ladybug looks her in the eye, a disorienting thing when her eyes aren’t visible.  She lets out a long, slow breath.

“What do you mean… ‘Disintegrated?’”

“Um…” says Alya, not quite sure how to approach this.  “Well.”  She pulls herself into a sitting position.  “Do you mind if I…”

Ladybug shakes her head, stepping back.

Alya pulls her chair upright, and sits down.

“So…  When you beat Stoneheart, you, did _something_ to a butterfly that came out of it.”

Ladybug nods.  “The Akuma, right.”

“Akuma.  Okay, so you did your thing to it.  Then, Chat Noir left, you remember all that, right?”

“Of course.”

“And then, I tried to get you in for an interview.”

Ladybug’s head turns almost imperceptibly to the phone.

“I remember.”

“Then, you were trying to leave, and…  Something happened?  That’s the bit that seemed wrong.  Like, you said that it didn’t normally go like this, or something.”

“Mm,” Ladybug sits down on her bed.

“So… Does that mean you’ve done this before?  Like, how _else_ would you know what felt ‘wrong?’”

“It felt like I was about to… Throw up, or something.  Like I was sick.”

“So do you _not_ remember doing this before?”

Ladybug looks down.  “It was familiar, but I don’t remember doing it.”

“And… You don’t remember anything _else._ ”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing that would tell us where you came from, then.”

“No.”

“But…” says Alya, “I think we can say that you’re… Y’know.”

“I know what?”

“ _Real,”_ says Alya, the word coming out strangely.  “Like… Your suit hides your face so well I could almost think you were, like, a robot, or something.”

“Oh,” says Ladybug.

There’s a long silence.

“I don’t feel like one,” she says, quietly.

Alya gets the feeling that might have been insensitive.

They sit in silence for a long time.

Alya clears her throat.

“Anyway.  So, you remember… Nothing.”

“Nothing before Stoneheart.”

“And I’d assume that if you… How did you put it?  _Detransform?_ If you detransform, you’ll vanish, again.”

“Probably.”

“Which means you can’t talk to…  _Tikki.”_

Ladybug looks up at that.  Alya can’t see her face but she might be…  No, she can’t tell.

“Guess I can’t.”

There are a few more minutes of silence.

“So… You remember Stoneheart, but…” she straightens, looking over.  “Where were you before that?  Like, is your _first memory_ seeing Stoneheart?”

“Oh!  No.  No it isn’t.  I remember…” she goes quiet.  “I remember… A quiet building.  There were people there.  Civilians, I think, on their phones?  I got out through a window.  I… I don’t know how I knew where I was going, but I’m guessing it wasn’t _luck_ that I found Chat Noir.”

Alya sits back.  “If there were people there, and _especially_ if they had their phones, _someone_ had to have seen you.”  She looks down, almost surprised at herself.  “Huh.  I bet I can backtrack you.  Tell me _everything you remember.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug's redesign was one of the things I wanted to share. Once I figured out what was going on with her whole 'disintegration' thing, I knew I had the perfect reason to pull a little redesign...  
> Said redesign, in retrospect, looks suspiciously like the recent Power Rangers movie. That wasn't the intent, but I'm standing by it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien does some research.  
> Alya finds a new target for an interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I find it easier to write for this show than to watch it.  
> I literally wrote several hundred words in the time it took me to get even part of the way into an episode.

It’s half past seven, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that something strange is going on.

Not strange in the sense that there are superheroes and monsters; he’s understands that perfectly well at this point.

No; something’s off with Ladybug.

As he thinks back, some of the things she said… They didn’t add up.

 _‘By the force of creation, be purified!’_   Those had been her exact words.

 _Why?_   She hadn’t seemed interested in being _flashy,_ but it had sounded like she was _used_ to saying it.

And what had that _next_ bit been?

It hadn’t just been a language he doesn’t speak.  It was a language that doesn’t even sound _familiar._

And then there had been the flashes of light at her eyes.  He almost isn’t sure he really saw them, but surely…

No.  He wouldn’t have made that up.

Ladybug is a massive question mark, and the craziest part is that Plagg, who’s had experience with superheroes of all descriptions, (at least if his statements about how old he is are true) seems to agree.

He’d said she was familiar, but at the same time, unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

Making things even more aggravating, there’s _no information on her._

No news crews made it to the incident, so even though there’s plenty of coverage on Stoneheart, there’s next to none on Ladybug.  The closest he’s gotten is an offhanded remark that a witness had reported two people (who he can only assume had been the two of them) defeating the villain.  Certainly, the descriptions match.

He’s been searching the internet on and off for what felt like hours, when-

He blinks.

There.  Top of the search results.

_‘The Ladyblog’_

Created 51 minutes ago.

Last updated, 43 minutes ago.

He clicks.

-

_‘The Ladyblog: Videos and News about Paris’ new heroes’_

The website looks like it was cooked up in about 15 minutes, which, he supposes, it probably was.

The black text barely shows up on the red background.  There are almost no buttons, or links, on the page, no FAQ, no… Well, he can hardly blame the creator for that, since, after all, it’s not like there are any sources.

What there _is,_ though, is a video, and below it, a fairly long text post.

He highlights it.

_‘Yesterday, most of us assumed that the most ‘supervillainous’ among us were ordinary humans, doing normal evil things.  Today, we’ve learned otherwise, with the attack of a creature known as ‘Stoneheart,’ a giant rock monster.  I know, that sounds ridiculous, but I have footage, which I’ll be posting in a couple minutes._

_The good news is that we got lucky, in that while supervillains are real, apparently, so are super_ heroes _.  Again, you’ll see the clip after I post this.  Stoneheart was defeated by two superheroes.  One called herself ‘Ladybug,’ while the other left before I had the chance to get his name._

 _I’ve always been a fan of_ fictional _superheroes, so of course, I’m going to jump at the chance to document what appear to be actual, real, superheroes.  It doesn’t come across in text, but I assure you, I am extremely excited._

_So please, if you want to stay up to date on Paris’ new heroes, add this blog to your feed, and you’ll be getting updates whenever I post them._

_Edit:  The important part starts at 10:45.’_

Adrien scrolls up.

He clicks _play_ on the video, realizing as he does so that it is, in fact, over 10 minutes long.

The video is an unedited stream of Stoneheart’s attack.  As he slides through it, it appears that most of it is unedited running across the city, following Stoneheart’s path of destruction.

As he’s tapping forward, Plagg floats lazily over, and flops down on top of Adrien’s head.

“Looks boring,” he says.

“Well…” says Adrien, and starts skipping forward.  It’s true, it _is_ kind of boring, but-

 _There._   He catches the video as a soccer goal is flying at the camera, only to bounce away as-

That’s him.

For a second, the thought doesn’t _compute._

He’s a superhero now.

He’s a superhero, who saved someone’s life.

_“Hey!” she calls, and Ladybug looks up, sun flashing off her suit as she does. “What are you waiting for?”_

_There’s a second of silence, as Ladybug seems almost confused._

_Then, she_ sprints _forward, and…_

It’s strange to see the fight in 3rd person.  He sees himself disintegrate the other goal, sees Ladybug reprimand him for it.

The phone captures everything, until Ladybug asks her to turn on the water when she gives the signal.

Then, there’s a _cut_ as the video goes dead, and when it comes back, she’s running up to Ladybug, and _he’s_ leaping away in the background.

_“That was amazing!”_

_“Oh.  Thanks.”_

_“I have so many questions, like, who are you, and where did you get superpowers, and are you from Paris?  And if you aren’t, how did you know to get here in time to fight Stoneheart?  Are there going to be more villains?”_

_“Well… I’m… Ladybug.  You can call me Ladybug.  As for the rest…” her head bends forward slightly, and then she looks back up.  “I’m on a time constraint, at the moment, and I need to be going.”_

_“Oh.  I guess… I guess that makes sense, but I think the people of Paris want to hear from the girl who just saved the city!”_

_“I didn’t do it alone!”_ Adrien perks up slightly, at that.  She seems unexpectedly vehement on the point.

_“Well… One of the people.  you know what I mean.”_

_“I… Right.  And, if…” she shakes her head, as if clearing it, “if… Paris, needs saving again, I’ll… I’ll try to have more time for an interview, alright?  But for now, I should be going.”_

_“Alright.  Well… I hope we meet again, Ladybug.”_

_Ladybug nods._

And the video ends, unexpectedly suddenly.

Adrien’s almost surprised that she didn’t film Ladybug jumping away, but… That doesn’t really matter, right?

Because she _did_ film…

He rewinds.

He spends a while just going back through the video, every time, something new catching his eye.

Plagg, in what feels like a strange twist, seems equally fascinated.

“So…” says Adrien, a few minutes in, “this must all be pretty normal to you, right?”

“Eh,” says Plagg.

“…Something weird?”

“Mmm…”

Adrien looks up, even though there’s no way he can see the top of his own head.

“Something about… Me?”

“Nah; Ladybug.”

“What?”

He makes a noncommittal noise.

Adrien, to his own surprise, understands the sentiment.  Kind of.

He watches the video a few more times before finally growing tired of it.

If he refreshes…

The only change is a small update, talking about… media attribution?  There’s an e-mail, which _apparently_ she wants news outlets to contact her through if they want to use the video.

It wouldn’t have been on _his_ priority list this early, but then again, neither would filming a monster attack up close, so that shouldn’t be a surprise.

He closes the tab, and stands up.

He blinks, twice, as he realizes that Plagg is still on his head.

“Plagg?”

A displeased grunt, and Plagg shifts slightly.

“You can’t sleep on my head, Plagg.”

“Mhm,” grumbles Plagg, not leaving.

Adrien reaches up to pick him off, but Plagg is gone by the time his hand arrives, zipping away in the comparatively dark room.

He looks up at the clock.

It’s a bit past 8, and he should be… What, going to bed?  How is he supposed to sleep after a day like _that?_   How is he supposed to… Wake up tomorrow, and go back to his normal life?

He can’t, can he? He has to take control of his own life.

So tomorrow, instead of letting his life pass like he’s always let it, he’s going to make his choices for _himself._

\--

Alya didn’t have much of a chance to learn about the people in this school yesterday; she didn’t exactly arrive early, and school was _abruptly_ cancelled when Stoneheart attacked (not that she had heard about that until _much_ later, when she’d gotten back from her journalistic excursion).

So it was that she _heard_ the name Chloe, but knew _nothing_ about her, not whether she was a force to be reckoned with, or whether she was a terror.

All Alya sees…

“-monster!  I don’t know _how_ you can show your face in this school after what happened!  Even if you hadn’t torn things to pieces, I’d think you’d be too embarrassed by your _ridiculous_ crush.  _Please._   You’d never have a chance, even with someone like _her.”_

Alya doesn’t exactly notice her feet moving, only that she is abruptly between the two of them.

 _“What was that?”_ she says, voice edged.

“I _said,_ ” says the girl, “that if he ever stood a chance with her before, after he tore the school to pieces yesterday, he _definitely_ doesn’t.”

Alya breathes in to say something, and stops dead.

“Wait,” she says, straightening up.

She pivots around.

 _“You were Stoneheart?”_ she says, wide-eyed.  He _does_ look familiar.  She doesn’t even notice the grimace before continuing.  “Can I get an interview?”

The grimace stops.

He blinks at her, face suddenly much _less_ dour and much more confused.

”Uh-

_“Excuuuuse me?  Did you just turn your back on me while I was talking to you!?”_

Alya turns her head back over her shoulder.  “Yes.   Now, seriously, can I get an interview?  I mean, if you don’t want your face, it could just be audio, but I managed to get footage of Ladybug and… Her partner, but I didn’t even consider asking the person they were fighting against!  The people of Paris would _love_ the chance to at least _hear_ about what happened, and I would _love_ to ask you some questions, like, _how did you turn into a giant rock monster?_ ”

The boy, dazed at the sudden shift in the moment, is swept away by the force of Alya’s curiosity.

\--

Adrien doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, as Chloe stares after the retreating backs of… Well, two of his fellow students, he supposes.

She turns, a bitter expression on her face, and- _immediately_ perks up at the sight of him.

“ _Adrikins,_ what a surprise!”

Adrien rapidly finds _himself_ swept away by Chloe’s… _Strong_ personality.

After being kept inside for so long, he’s almost _dazed_ as he’s paraded around like a fancy new toy.  He doesn’t have much he can do except for be carried along, occasionally signing an autograph as someone comes up, clearly awestruck.

It’s a lot of human interaction at once, is the thing.

He barely notices as she leads him into a classroom.

“I have the _perfect_ place for you,” she says, and points, “right _there,_ right in front of _me_.”

He sits down, the past minute or so a blur in his mind.

He’s in a class now?  He’s…

He looks to his left.

The boy next to him keeps looking at him for a second after Adrien turns to face him, then slowly and deliberately turns back towards the front, putting on the headphones he has around his neck.

Adrien, slightly concerned, looks away as well.

Not the friendly sort, he guesses.

He kind of wishes Chloe had thought to put him next to someone who might be a bit more welcoming.

Oh well, it’s not as if…

As if…

There’s an empty table to the right, and Chloe is bent over the bench behind it, as if-

He stands up.

“Chloe,” he says, and she straightens up.  “What are you-

His eye catches on something small placed on the seat, it looks like…

“Why did you put a piece of gum there?” he says, leaning forward.

“I have my reasons,” she says, already behind him.

He reaches down to pick it up.

“Isn’t that disrespectful to-

_“Hey!”_

He turns, to the sight of-

His eyes go wide.  That’s the girl from the Ladyblog!  She’s got the same orange-checkered shirt, and the same auburn hair, and-

It has to be her.

And… That’s her glaring at him.

Adrien suddenly gets the impression he understood what Chloe was doing.

Her eyes dart down to the gum in his hand, and he realizes too late exactly what this looks like.

She steps up to him, and he has the impression of being looked down on from below his eye level.  She’s inches shorter than him, but makes up for it in raw force of presence.

“Put that in the trash,” she says, “and maybe don’t try bullying people just because they’re _new.”_

She pushes past him, and he gets the impression he’s lucky to be alive.

He deposits the small wad of gum in the trash, and sits back down, aware of the eyes of the boy he sat down next to on him.

Adrien sits down, and tries not to draw any further attention.

A long second passes, the only sound in his ears Chloe talking to her friend behind him.

“You know,” says the kid, “for what it’s worth, I saw what actually happened.”

Adrien looks over.

The kid has the closer side of his headphones off.

“Kinda surprised, actually.  Figured, Chloe brought you in here, told you where to sit, you were like her.”

“She was one of the only people my father let me have as a friend.”

The boy looks him up and down.

“Lemme guess, something about high society?”

“Ah, yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, at least he’s finally let you out, right?” the kid smiles, and Adrien is unable to quite return it; his _father_ is still strongly against this and _oh god he’s going to have to deal with that._

He reaches out a hand, cracking a light smile.  “I’m Nino, pleasure to meet you, dude.”

“Adrien,” says Adrien.

Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

And maybe… Well, _maybe_ he’ll get a chance to explain things to the other new member of the class who is _oh god visibly displeased._ She’s not looking at him, but he’d bet good money she’s unhappy with _him._

\--

Alya feels peculiarly alone.  Alone, with at least two bullies in the room, though hopefully no more.

As far as she knows, she’s the only one available to fight back, but… Well, that’s how it goes, right?  Evil hasn’t triumphed until nobody stands up to it.

So she’s _going_ to stand up to the two resident blond bullies in the class, and she’s _going_ to keep doing it.

Well…

It’s not like she’s _truly_ alone, right?

She scratches a nail gently across her new earrings.

She has Tikki, and, though it would be quite a feat to reveal it, she’s got Ladybug, too.

But still, when it comes right down to it, it’s going to be _Alya_ standing up to evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I'm really enjoying about this fic is picking things out that would change if there was no Marinette. For example, Alya would have probably ended up in the front-right, since it was Marinette who initially took the seat Chloe was after. Alya had no reason for conflict with Chloe until her second day.  
> And, of course, since she's alone, her position becomes more stressful, since she doesn't have Marinette on her side.  
> She does have direct access to Ladybug, though, which, really, is pretty optimal for her journalist position, and, I would think, would make her even more eager to get any further interviews with other parties that she could.
> 
> One thing that doesn't change, though, is the weather...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya publishes an article.  
> Adrien makes his second friend.

In total, Alya has had an _extremely_ busy past 24 hours.

She considers.

In the past 24 hours, she has:

_Discovered the existence of real, actual superheroes._

_Successfully caught superheroes on camera, in action._

_Interviewed a superhero._

_Seen said superhero disintegrate._

_Spoken to the creature that seems to exist when that superhero does not._

_Reconstituted a superhero._

_Gotten another, better interview with a superhero._

_Created a superhero blog._

_Discovered the identity of a supervillain who menaced the city._

_Interviewed the supervillain, discovering in the process that he was seemingly coerced, and that the real supervillain is working behind the scenes._

_Successfully stood up to not 1, but 2 bullies in one day._

It’s… Yeah.  Busy.

Extraordinary circumstances, she supposes.

Oh, and, off the list…

She figured out where Ladybug came from.

Or… Not where she came from, as such, but where she woke up the first time.

After the events of yesterday, a shattered glass case in a museum, a pair of earrings missing, was hardly news, especially since it occurred when just about everyone was busy staring at their phones, hoping that the image of a stone monster rampaging through Paris was just digital effects.  The consensus was that there had been a girl in red and black, but they’d only seen her for a second, because she was already running out of the room.

The running assumption that Alya has seen is that she was an opportunistic looter, taking advantage of people’s distraction to become a thief.  A thief of a pair of simple, black earrings.

The same kind of earrings that are left behind when Ladybug disintegrates.

It doesn’t take a genius to find the connection, just a reason to look for it.

Alya believes she can say without exaggeration, that of all the people in Paris, she’s probably one of the best informed about what’s going on right now.

She’s already gotten a few news outlets asking to use her footage, which should say something.

Actually, that’s a good reminder; she needs to make the Ladyblog look a little less like it was made by a 10-year-old in 20 minutes.

Oh yes.  Yesterday was busy, but Alya has no intent of resting today.

\--

_Interview With An (ex)-Supervillain_

_Hello again, Paris.  If you’re on this blog, you undoubtedly know about the events that took place (as of the writing of this article) yesterday._

_If you’ve been living under a rock, I’ll recap._

_Yesterday, the existence of supervillains (and, of course, Superheroes, just look at the blog title) was forcibly made clear for all of us._

_A giant rock monster, only referred to as ‘Stoneheart’ marauded through the city, leaving a trail of destruction.  The video I took of the attack, and the subsequent appearance of Ladybug and her partner, is just below this article._

_Stoneheart was inexplicable; there was no warning, nor any clear cause.  However, when our new superheroes defeated him (which I recognize happened off camera; I’ll explain that another time) he didn’t just crumble into dust.  Someone was left behind; coincidentally, one of my new classmates, which may explain why his first point of contact was with my school._

_I didn’t make the connection until today, but when I did, I made a point to get an interview with him.  What follows is what I have learned from speaking to our (ex)-supervillain._

_~_

_The first thing I had to ask was_ why _.  Why had he attacked the city, unleashed destruction onto it?_

_The answer I received was strange; simply, he hadn’t intended to.  The why hadn’t come from him.  In fact, he told me he had no recollection of what had happened between the time when Stoneheart appeared, and when he came to._

_What I managed to get from him was that he had been in a truly awful mood; per his request, I’ll refrain from mentioning the specifics, but suffice it to say that earlier in the day, he had been the subject of a certain degree of mockery.  The next thing he was aware of, he was speaking to someone who wasn’t there._

_‘He said he was Hawkmoth.  He said if I did what he asked, he’d help me get back at [Name Removed].’  *Long silence* ‘If I’d had a few minutes, I could have said no, but I didn’t have time.’_

_It’s not entirely clear what ‘Hawkmoth’ wants, but judging by the fact that he’s willing to unleash a giant stone monster on the city, it’s safe to say that his intentions are less than honorable._

_Furthermore, I can make two major conjectures._

_Firstly it seems likely that Hawkmoth isn’t done; unless all he wanted was destruction, he doesn’t seem to have_ received _anything._

 _However, I’m glad to say that just as much as he’s not done, our_ heroes _aren’t done, either.  I have every confidence that they’ll be back next time Hawkmoth makes an attempt on his goal._

_Secondly, I have to deliver the news that I don’t think there was anything special about my classmate; he was angry, and Hawkmoth took advantage of it, but from what I saw, there’s nothing to suggest Hawkmoth had to go for him.  Anyone he can make a deal with, anyone with an axe to grind, could be a target._

_It’s not the note I wanted to end this on, but it’s the honest one._

_Stay safe out there, Paris._

_\--_

Gabriel Agreste’s fingers tap thoughtlessly on the screen of his workstation.

He had _hoped_ that he could win the day _yesterday;_ it would have been the simplest possible outcome.  As far as he’d been able to tell, his enemies had been entirely inexperienced, so even an enemy so simple as Stoneheart should have stood an excellent chance.

Instead, some _civilian_ had shown up with a camera and a thirst to tell the entire _city_ about him.  _‘Stay safe, Paris.’_   He didn’t know whether it was intentional or not, but she’d made his job _significantly_ more difficult.  People weren’t as scared of things they understood.  Monsters appearing from nowhere sowed fear across the city.  Monsters appearing from negative emotions gave people an incentive to keep their emotions in check.

Still.  He would have told them his name, one way or another.  They still have no way of tracking the name back to him.  Only he and Nathalie know, and he _trusts_ Nathalie, almost as much as he trusts himself.

His victory is assured.  Maybe it won’t be today, or even tomorrow, but the laws of probability dictate that _someday,_ he’ll take the Miraculouses of Ladybug and… The other one.

But right now…

He exits from the article.  He has something more pressing, for the moment, and…  A choice to make.

\--

The Ladyblog looks nicer today than it did yesterday. There’s an actual border, and the color of the posts means that the text is much more legible.

He exits from the blog, just in time to see a message arrive from Nathalie.

His heart sinks.

_‘Come to the front of the building, immediately.’_

He wants to fight back, maybe tell them that he’s in the middle of class, but… He isn’t, and they know it.  There’s a reason the message arrived almost exactly as his lunch period started.  Knowing Nathalie, she knows what room he’s in, and the name of everyone in it, along with all of their backgrounds.

Well… Maybe that’s just 7-year-old Adrien talking; the same one who could _always_ tell him exactly where _anyone_ was.

The point stands, she’s thorough, and-

He’s getting distracted, probably because he _really_ doesn’t want to leave.

He manages to grab Nino’s number, in the hopes that even if he doesn’t make it back, he might still get to talk to him later.

He walks out to the front of the building.

And there…

Nathalie’s in the passenger window of the car.

She nods silently towards the back seat, face impassive.

He nods back, and silently enters.

His bodyguard’s in the driver’s seat, as always.

He catches the tail end of his father saying something he can’t quite make out.  His father isn’t in the car, though, which means-

Nathalie turns the screen to face him.

Adrien curses internally.

Gabriel Agreste; scary as a business rival, but worse when he’s your _literal father._

Or… Scary might not be the word.

Unnerving, would be closer.

His expression is unreadable, somewhere between displeasure and contemplation.

There is a long silence.

“Well,” he says, eventually, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

Adrien is surprised.  Rhetorical or not, the question is more than he was expecting.

“I… Have, this.  To say,” he says, trying to muster the words before it becomes obvious that he had nothing prepared for this eventuality.

Part of him wants to be aggressive. Part of him can’t imagine the possibility of saying anything.

But he’s a superhero, and superheroes don’t get tongue-tied, and they don’t lose control of their emotions.

“I remember what you said,” he says, “that home has everything I could ever need.”  Internally, his brain is spewing the strongest profanity he knows- Stoneheart had nothing on this- but externally, his expression is calm, and the words aren’t shaking.  “And…  That might be true.  For you.  But I can’t live like that.  I have to,” he shrugs, “go places.  Meet people.”

The silence stretches out, longer even than before.  Interminable.

He swallows.

“I see,” says his father.

A few more seconds.

“Your actions over the previous few days have been extremely disrespectful,” he says.

Adrien nods, head dipping low enough that he can’t see the screen.

“Be that as it may, it remains to be seen whether you would be better suited at school or not.”  Adrien’s eyes widen.  “That in mind, I have decided to give you a chance.  You may attend this school.  You will be expected to report either to Nathalie or your bodyguard immediately upon leaving, and if I am led to believe that this was a mistake, it goes without saying that your enrollment will be terminated.”

His head jerks up.  He half expects his father to be making some joke, but…  He needn’t have checked.

“Nathalie will be able to explain any further questions you may have.  I have work to attend to.” Without a further word, the call ends.

Adrien looks to Nathalie.

Her face is still impassive.

\--

Alya hasn’t felt safe to talk to Tikki all day, and it’s not like she even _knows_ anyone here.

Well… To be fair, Ivan gave her half a nod near the end of the day, and she’s pretty sure he was smiling on some nearly-invisible level.  Alya gets the impression it had something to do with the girl he’s walking with, the one who gives the impression of a particularly friendly and colorful porcupine… That’s probably just the hair.

Anyway.

The point is, she’s been _waiting_ for a chance to get back out into the world and _do_ something.

And now…

She stands near the door, out of the rain.

She doesn’t live _far_ from here, of course, but…

No matter; she might not have an umbrella, but she has to get home _somehow._   She takes a step forward, ready to-

“Alya!”

Her eyes close in annoyance as she recognizes the voice.

She turns to face him, and… His expression isn’t what she expected.  He seems worried, uncertain.  And, of course, he has his umbrella out.

“What?” she says, keeping most of the contempt out of her voice.

“I…” he says, “I wanted to explain, about what happened earlier.”

She blinks at him, slowly.  “Go on.”

He seems to be holding something back.  Then, he sighs, and meets her eye.  “I didn’t put that gum on your chair.  Chloe did.  I didn’t want to say that because… Well, we’ve been friends since we were little, and it just seemed…” he shakes his head.  “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

She keeps steady eye-contact with him.

He looks away, and visibly swallows.

“I…” he says, and looks up, “I know it’s kind of stupid but… Did you remember to bring an umbrella?”

She… Hadn’t been expecting that.

“No,” she says.

He nods, and reaches forward

“Then… Please, take mine.”

She pulls back, slightly.

She meets his eyes, and is surprised at the intensely earnest expression he’s wearing.

To her own surprise, she finds herself reaching out.

Her hand grasps the handle, and…

She takes the umbrella.

He stands there a few seconds longer, and then, with a satisfied nod, walks off, into the rain.

She stands there, and simply watches him go.

Seconds pass.

“Quite a gentleman,” says Tikki, flitting out of her pocket.

Alya nods, slowly.

He’s… not who she thought he was.

Beyond that, she’s not quite sure what to think of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya demonstrates worryingly acute powers of investigation. Nino, is both a bit frightened, and a bit impressed.  
> More to the point, he finds himself, against his best efforts, being sociable.  
> Or, does it count as being sociable, when you're mostly being pumped for information about your classmates?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I found particularly interesting about this AU was that without Marinette around, Nino became the only person with any prior knowledge about the school.  
> I always feel like I never manage to write Nino as doing as much stuff as he should, so I suppose this chapter is a nice change of pace, in that regard.

Nino is generally the optimistic sort, but even so, he’s surprised to see Alya’s dislike of Adrien turn around so quickly.  Of course, he doesn’t really know her, so, really, anything she does might still be normal for her, but there’s no denying she seemed far too stubborn to change her mind that easily.

Maybe it’s that she doesn’t know anyone else, and thinks that she can’t afford to miss out on possible friends?  That _could_ be it, but… Well, suffice to say he doesn’t really know.

All he _does_ know is that the very _day_ after staring down Adrien like she was about to throw a punch, she quietly asked to join them as the one group of 3 in the class for a piece of groupwork.

In the span of 30 minutes, the first ten of which she was very quiet, she managed to acquire both of their numbers, made sure they knew about the ‘Ladyblog,’ which she apparently ran, figured out their positions on Ladybug (generally optimistic in both cases) and managed to do it while _simultaneously_ keeping up with the groupwork.

Nino wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that.  Either she was smart enough that the work didn’t matter, or she didn’t have to think to get information out of people.  In either case, she was definitely kind of scary.

He began to get the sense that she might, in addition, be unnaturally driven, when she suggested that the three of them videoconference so Nino could give them the low-down on the school.  Well, driven might not be the word he was looking for, but she didn’t lack for initiative, was the point.

And considering he actually ended up _agreeing to do it…_

What had Nino ‘Back Seat’ Lahiffe come to?

…

It’s 8:20, now.

Nino sits down at his desk.

For a second, he debates trying to find some way out.

He stares out the window, where the streetlights are already on.

No.  This won’t be that bad, right?  It’s just… Talking to people.  People he knows.

The invitation is already there as he turns on his phone.

He sighs, barely able to believe he’s actually doing this, and accepts.

“Hey Nino!” says Adrien.

“Hey dudes,” says Nino.

There’s a second’s silence.

“So… You had some questions.”

“I did,” says Alya.

He sighs.  “Alright then.  Hit me.”

Alya shuffles something outside of the camera.  “First of all.  Classmates.  Tell me everything you know.”

Oh boy.

“You mean, like, all of them?”

“Exactly.  You sat in the back, didn’t you?  You must have had ample opportunity to keep an eye on people.”

Nino laughs.  “I mean, that’s assuming I wasn’t listening to music the whole time.  It’s not like I was sitting in the back to keep an eye on people.”

“I mean,” says Adrien, “you’ve got to have a better idea than me, right?  I only know Chloe.”

“Speaking of which,” says Alya, “she’s the one I’d like you to start with.”

Somehow, that’s not a surprise.

“Uh…  Sure, I guess,” he says, “but just, don’t mention you’re hearing any of this _from me,_ alright?”

“Why?”

He shrugs.  “I… Don’t like the idea of Chloe deciding I’m worth her time.”

“Worth her time?” says Adrien.

“She usually just slacks off during class,” says Nino, “but the problem is whenever she gets bored, she just seems to like messing with people.”

“Bullying them,” says Alya, flatly.

“Yeah, pretty much.  She likes reminding people she’s richer and more powerful than them, and she _definitely_ likes thinking she’s in charge.”

“And is she?”

“I mean… She successfully grabbed class rep every year its been available, so… Pretty much.  Nobody fights back, since she threatens them if they do.”

He barely needs to look to see the gleam in Alya’s eyes.

“You want to run against her when it comes up.”

“Of course!  What better way to bring down a bully than publicly, by vote?”

“Okay;  just make sure she doesn’t have anything on you.  She threatened to kick a girl out of scrapbooking club for _considering_ it, and trust me, Chloe isn’t even _in_ scrapbooking club.”

“ _How._ ”

Nino shrugs.  “Threatened to pull some strings with her father.”

“And her father is…?”

“The mayor.  _Andre_ Bourgeois?”

Alya grimaces.  “Surely that’s abuse of political power.”

“I dunno man, that’s just what I heard.”

“Why does she even _want_ to be class rep?”

“I think just she hates the idea of anyone else doing it.”

“…Okay, then.  I think that’s about all I need to know about her…  Next up…”

“Sabrina?” said Nino.

“Who?”

“Nah, just figured you’d want to hear about her, too.”

“Why?”

“She just hangs around with Chloe.  It’s not clear if she’s actually her _friend_ or just, like, a minion who gets paid in old clothes.  A lot of people are pretty sure she’s got a crush, but… I mean, it’s not like anyone’s actually confirmed it.”

“Is there a _reason_ someone would have a crush on Chloe?”

“Don’t ask me, man, it’s probably one of those things where if you’d even consider it, you’re already _super_ close to her.”

The two of them go silent.

After a moment, Adrien seems to realize they were looking to him for information.

“Oh.  I don’t know… We were friends, but I didn’t… No.  Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had a crush on… Well, anybody.”  He laughed.  “It sounds like fun, though.”

“I’m not sure _fun_ is the word most people would use,” said Alya.

“Well…”

There’s an uncomfortable silence.

“Anyway,” says Alya, “Thanks for bringing up Sabrina.”

“No problem, dude.”

“So, next on the list…” Alya laughs, “Alright, how about this.  Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Nino lets out a breath, half laugh, half dismissal.

“No no no, I’m curious.”

“Not much to tell,” he says, “I listen to music, I make music… Well, more like remixing; I _want_ to be a DJ.”

“And here you had us thinking you just sat in the back and never interacted with people,” says Adrien, laughing.

“Look, 9 times out of 10, I prefer listening to music to talking to people.  Anyway, it’s quieter in the back.”

“Well, you’re talking to us now,” says Alya.

“Yeah, I’ve been on ‘9’ for a long time.  There’s a lot of talking stored in the last tenth.”

“So… That’s your fun fact to share with the class?” says Alya.

He rolls his eyes.  “Sure.”

“Alright, so… How about…” Alya looks down, for a second.  “Ivan Bruel.”

“You know his last name?”

She lifts something into frame.  “The yearbook does.”

“How did you…  Nevermind, I don’t want to know,” says Nino.

He sighs.  “Ivan is… Well, big, obviously.  He doesn’t talk much, but I can hear his music when he’s wearing his headphones.  Dude’s gonna get tinnitus, but I guess that’s the price you pay for listening to metal.  Dunno if he doesn’t like people, but he doesn’t look like he does.  Except…”

“Except for Mylene?”

Nino just sighs.  “I want to ask how you know, but…”

“I did an interview with him.  That’s why I wanted to ask you about him.”

“Oh… Yeah, I actually read that,” says Nino.

“Me too!”

“Well,” says Alya, and to Nino’s surprise she seems a bare step below flustered, “Good.  It’s… Good that you’re both up to date on the latest, news, and…” she trails off, and clears her throat, as if to make it clear that they are to forget that she was just at a loss for words.

“Yeah, so… Mylene is, like, nervous?  Pretty sure she’s got literal anxiety.  Past that, she’s big into environmentalism, or…  She’s done a project on it twice, that I remember, which is more than you’d expect to be random.”

“You know,” says Alya, “considering the fact you said you don’t keep an eye on people, you know an awful lot about them.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.  It’s probably just that we’ve all been in the same school for years.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.”  Alya looks down.  “Agreste, Bourgeois, Bruel, Cesaire, hah, of course… how about, Couffaine?”

“Uh, Juleka, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, she’s…” he shrugs, “Quiet, mostly.  She doesn’t say much, and…  Never gets her picture taken.”

“I was wondering why there wasn't one next to her name.”

Adrien frowns.  “Cultural?  Religious?”

“Nah.  Bad luck.  She’s probably cursed or something, but I don’t know who’d curse someone to never have a picture taken properly.  Anyway, she’s the girl with the long black hair.  Tips are… Purple, I think.”

“So… You don’t know much about her?”

Nino shrugs.  “Just… Quiet, and no pictures.  That’s about all I’ve got.  Except… She’s basically Rose’s best friend, and Rose tries to be friends with _everybody.”_

“Rose… Lavillant?”

“Mhm.  Kim and Alix have bets placed on how long it takes them to get together.”  He snorts with laughter.  “A lot of bets, actually.  It’s been running for years, and I’m pretty sure neither of them cares about the original stakes at this point.”

“And it hasn’t happened because…?”

Nino shrugs.  “Dunno, man.  Another curse, maybe?  Possibly something to do with the fact that Rose gets little half-crushes on people every other week.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… It’s more like she just tries to see the good in everyone?  And she’s so excitable, it’s not easy to tell if she _actually_ has a crush on someone, or if she just likes them.”

“I see…  And Juleka…?”

“Couldn’t tell you.  They’re definitely best friends, and the running theory is that neither of them thinks the other one likes them back.”

“That’s… kind of sad,” says Adrien.

“Yeah, kinda,” says Nino.

“Agreed, but…” says Alya, looking back down.  “Couffaine, Haprèle, _Kantè._   Max Kantè?”

“Yeah…” says Nino.  “Smartest kid in class, by a mile, indisputable school champion at Mecha Strike, but… Not the most charismatic.  Might be friends with Kim?  Maybe?  He likes explaining stuff to him, anyway, so I figure that's a pretty good bet _._ ”

“And-

“Before you ask,” says Nino, “Kim is the big, athletic kid.  Max is smart, Kim is fast, and…” Nino seems to consider.  “Yeah… He’s not the smartest.  Like I was saying, he likes making bets, and dares, and,” he groans, “while I’m on the subject, the reason he can _keep making them,_ is Alix.  That’s Alix _Kubdel,_ for reference.  If you’ve seen Kim, imagine that much fight in the smallest girl in class.  They get on like a house on fire, and that’s _not_ in the good way.  Chloe still messes with her, but you get the impression that whatever extra satisfaction she gets out of making her angry, she loses when Alix _acts_ on it.”

“I see…”

“Yeah.  Anyway.  Anybody else?”  Nino’s lips move silently, and…

“That’s everyone,” says Alya.

“Cool,” says Nino.

There’s a long silence.

“So…” he says, eventually, “I guess I should probably ask you guys about yourselves?  I mean, I told you about _me._   Like… Are you guys from Paris originally, or… What?”

“I am, yeah,” says Adrien, “I’ve never been to a school before, though.”

“You’re kidding.  Not even, like, a private school?”

“Is that… The same, thing, as, having private tutors?”

“Uhh…  No.”

“Then, no.”

“So, why are you in school now?” says Alya.

“Uhh…” says Adrien, and Nino leans back, all too ready to _not_ be the one doing all the talking.

The voice in the back of his head suggests that this qualifies as making friends.

Weird.

But also, not a bad feeling.

He supposes he’ll go with it.


End file.
